


The Viper Prince that stole the Princess of Winter

by bellarose_riddle



Series: Of Gods and Kings [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Immortals AU (?), They are immortals on this one, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:46:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellarose_riddle/pseuds/bellarose_riddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lyanna Stark wanted to be something more than a princess; she wanted to use her immortal life to travel through Westeros, and she wanted to be known for who she was, not for her family name. Not wanting to be used for breeding, she wished to be seen as an equal to her brothers, for her powers surpassed theirs. But apparently that wasn't what a royal princess was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daughter of the North

It was a dark day for House Stark when their lord and father informed them of Lyanna's marriage to the King of Storms, but if Rickard Stark had noticed he had said nothing. And yet the winds of winter raged upon their home and when the day awoke Winterfell was surrounded by snow caused by the silent rage of the only she-wolf of the castle. Most immortals knew how to control their powers, and Eddard was often worried when Brandon and Lya were not able to do so. Their father had never been worried about it, though, saying that it was something that happened often in their family, for their powers, as their very essence, were as strong and untameable as the northerner winds.

"We are riding south soon, aren't we?" Lyanna asked her older brother, even if she did not turn to him.

Ned was sitting on one of the biggest roots of their Heart Tree and his sister was in front of him, giving him her back, with one of her hands inside of the pool, the warm water of it running through her fingers.

"Yes." He didn't elaborate, but both of them knew what that meant.

Ned loved his sister and knew that she didn't like the idea of marriage, but he also knew the man she had been betrothed too, and wanted to believe that they'd be happy. The King of Storms and head of House Baratheon had been after all Eddard's best friend for centuries, and the quiet wolf knew him to be a good man who had been madly in love with Lyanna from the moment he had laid his eyes on her years before, and the indifference that the princess of winter had shown him hadn't seemed to stop him from pursuing her.

"Are Bran and Ben coming?" Lya turned her head slightly to look at him and Ned shook his head, giving her a bitter smile. He hated to leave their brothers behind as much as she did. It was odd for a wolf to leave half of his pack behind. But he understood why she was so silent, because if Robert Baratheon had his way and married her it could be a long time before she set foot on their family home again. And, being immortal as they were, _a long time_ could mean several centuries, which would seem insane to any mortal of all those who lived on their land.

"There's a meeting at Harrenhal on the Riverlands," Ned added. "Many of the lords are already there. So are Robert and some of the other Kings. We'll meet him there."

She giggled, a cold and empty sound, and yet when her grey at meet his, he could see the fondness in them and the love his sister bore him. He wondered if that love was the reason why she had agreed to meet Robert.

* * *

They left a fortnight later, and some of the lord's heirs joined them. Among them was Maege Mormont, the lady of Bear Island, who had inherited the title from her brother when he had decided to join the Night's Watch. She was one of the few true friends Lyanna had, the other being some of the lesser immortals that served at Winterfell and humans from some of the nearby villages, and the princess was always happy when she was around. Lya was sure that Ned had invited Maege for that very reason, to keep her company, because there was no way he would bring the she-bear to a southern court otherwise. The truth was that Lyanna didn't want to leave her home and her family, not just because she didn't want to marry Robert, which she didn't, but also because she didn't like the idea of having to _change_ , and she knew that she'd have to if she were to stay in the south. She smiled at her brother through the crowd as they set camp and he smiled in return, before turning to look at their surroundings.

The North was one of the constituent regions of Westeros and was a sovereign nation ruled by the Kings of Winter. It was also the largest region of the Seven Kingdoms, and extended from the border of the New Gift, controlled by the Night's Watch, an ancient folk of warriors that held the most dangerous places of the whole land, to the southern edge of the Neck far to the south, were it met the Riverlands, ruled by the King of Riverrun. Their home, Winterfell, was the capital of the north and had been the seat of House Stark for eons, ever since Brandon the Builder, one of the first immortals of their blood, had built it. Truth be told, even if Brandon had been to Riverrun, Lyanna and Benjen had never left the North. Ned, on the other hand, had travelled to other kingdoms, having spent some time at Riverrun, with King Hoster Tully and his family, and several centuries at the Valle in the East, under the protection of King Jon Arryn of the Eyrie. He had not seen a meeting like the one they were attending before, though.

The Lord of Harrenhal was hosting a party to celebrate the birth of prince Rhaegar's and princess Elia's son and all of the important courts of Westeros had been invited. The Starks were not usually fond of such things, preferring to stay in their beloved North, but Rickard had known that at least his children would have to show up. It wasn't every day, after all, that two members of the Great Houses had a child, and the Martell princess had already bore two children to the Targaryen prince.

The Great Houses were the rulers of each kingdom and towered above the other immortals on the land because, a part from having ancient souls that allowed them to live for centuries, they were connected to the earth on different ways. The Tullys of Riverrun, with their bright blue eyes and auburn hair, had power over the waters and the tides. The Tyrells of Highgarden, who lived in great palaces full of windows and surrounded by labyrinths of roses and trees, could make plants and flowers bloom and grow with a touch of their fingers. The Greyjoys, who lived on the Iron Islands, could make the wind blow on their favour. The Baratheons, who had short temper and great strength, could summon storms whenever they pleased. The Targaryens of King's Landing and Dragonstone, with their purple eyes and silver hair, had dragon wings and were the fastest predators in the sky. The Lannisters of Casterly Rock had the ability to turn their hands into talons, and some could even shift their shape to turn into lions. The Martells of Dorne were said to be able to summon a fire so alike the sun's that it burned through stone and to shake and bend the sands to do their will, often burying their enemies under them. And the Starks of the North had power over the ice and the snow.

That meant that when two members of any of those houses got married, their offspring had the possibility of inheriting tremendous power. It didn't always happen, of course, and most times the baby would inherit the traits of just one of their parents, but that didn't stop the families from trying to have powerful heirs. Rhaegar and Elia's firstborn, for example, had been a girl with dark hair, brown eyes and no wings. Time would tell what their baby boy could do.

* * *

They reached Harrenhal a month later and were greeted by richly decorated walls and people dancing and celebrating. The massive castle was a ruin, it had been ever since the first Targaryen king, a man called Aegon the Dragon, had laid waste to it, purring wildfire from the sky and letting the castle, its lord, and all of his heirs burn. Lyanna, who had always admired the tales about the first Tagaryens, who had been great warriors and fierce Kings and Queens, was marvelled when they crossed the castle's gates. She barely noticed people kneeling as they walked inside the palace and were escorted to their solar.

The northern lords that had travelled with them were given rooms along the corridor, and Lya and Ned shared a common room that had two doors at each side of it, one for her and the other one for him, and a big balcony from which they could see the gardens from the back side of the castle.

"We'll be expected at the feast tonight," Ned informed her, walking into her room as she got settled in, and looking at the black walls with a frown. He didn't like the place at all.

"You don't like southern courts, do you, brother?"

"I've been in many of them and they all tire me," he admitted, sitting on her bed. "The members of the Great Houses like to play a game in which I do not desire to take part, and the others just want to be on their good graces."

The princess sighted, looking at him. She knew Ned have had to endure the games of the Valle for years, even if it was just as a spectator, for he didn't like politics at all, and knew also that he wouldn't have ridden south for this great meeting if their father hadn't insisted.

"If you want to leave, we'll leave," he swore suddenly, his voice solemn, and the she-wolf gave him a bright smile. "I mean it, Lya. Say the word and we will damn all of them to the Seven Hells."

"My brother, the great politician." She kissed his cheek fondly. "It is our duty to stay." _And it is mine to meet my soon-to-be husband_ , she thought bitterly, but didn't say it.

Eddard left not long after and Lyanna changed into more comfortable clothes. She put on leather pants and boots, and a white tunic made to fit her frame, before putting on a leather vest on top on that one and braiding her hair back. It wasn't appropriate for ladies to dress like that, not even in the North, but Lyanna's grandmother had been Arya Flint of the mountain clans, and the clans did not follow the rules imposed by the Great Houses, even if they were loyal to the Stark Kings. It had been Arya who had first given her a sword, much to her father's dismay, and it had also been her who had allowed her to train herself for the fight. In consequence, Lyanna felt as comfortable wearing her battle clothes as her eldest brother did and was a match to most of the generals under her father's command. She braided her long dark hair back and got out of the room, ignoring the knowing glare that lord Glover gave her when she walked pass him on the stairs. King Rickard Stark's men had long before learnt not to be surprised by the princess' actions.

It was easy for Lyanna to walk around the lesser immortals and the mortal servants, and most of them didn't even pay attention to her, busy as they were with different kinds of tasks. It wasn't until she got to the training yard on the left wing of the massive building that she regretted ever getting out. Robert Baratheon was sparing against Loras Tyrell and the knight seemed to have trouble hitting his opponent, for the King of the Stormlands, even if he was not as disciplined as other lords, was all brute power and strength, which made him way stronger than Loras. Her brother's best friend's bright blue eyes found her amidst the crowd of people and he smiled at her. He was handsome, Lyanna would give him that, but she had never loved him, and doubted she ever would. So, instead of smiling back, she pretended not to have seen him and started walking fast toward the stables, aware of the King of Storm coming after her.

She got into one of the opened stalls not paying attention to the man who was currently taking his horse out of it, and squatted behind the wooden panel of it, making sure to contain her essence, knowing that other immortals could sense her powers and recognise her if she did not take a hold of them.

"Baratheon," a voice that Lyanna assumed belonged to the man standing out of the stall said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mind your own business, Martell," Robert replied. "I'm looking for my betrothed. Have you seen her?"

"No. It's just me here, no ladies." His accent was thick, but Lyanna wasn't surprised for she had already seen that he was dornish. Before continuing, he laughed. "But if you speak at her as harshly as you speak at me it is no wonder she runs away from you."

The air shifted when Robert displayed all of his power but it didn't last long, which surprised the she-wolf, who had not felt the other man answering and there had been no indication that said the head of House Baratheon wouldn't win. After a moment of silence, she heard Robert walking away.

"You can come out now. He's gone."

Lyanna stood up and walked out of the stall, aware of the stranger's eyes on her as he kept on brushing his sand-steed's mane. They were dark as a starless night, just like his hair, and he wore a yellow tunic adorned with little golden suns. Beneath it, his skin was dark as cooper.

"Thank you for your assistance," she said, and made to leave when he spoke again, his words making the princess turn her head toward him, the leather of her vest cracking under the movement of her body.

"So, _betrothed_ , do you have a name?"

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Lyanna."

"I didn't know the King of Storm's End was promised to a member of King Rickard's army." Before she could ask him how he knew she was from the North, ignoring the commentary he had made about her being a member of an army even if it flattered her, he smirked at her. "I have an ear for accents."

His steed neighed and he had to turn to calm him down, caressing its face and humming a low tone. Once the horse had soothed, he looked at her again.

"Your name, my lord?" Lyanna asked, even if she was starting to imagine who he was.

"Oberyn," he smirked, and his ebony eyes seemed to brighten up, "at your service."

She had heard tales about the Prince of House Nymeros Martell, of course, and knew that both friends and foes called him Red Viper, even if she was not sure of how he had gotten the nickname on the first place. She knew also that he was one of the best warriors of Dorne, and surely of Westeros, and that he was mostly known for his battles and for the companions that he decided to take to bed which, if the gossips and stories were to be believed, had not been few.

"I must leave," she replied.

"To keep on hiding from Robert?" He laughed. "Well, if you find the time someday you could seek me and tell me how such a beautiful lady ended up serving at one of the most ruthless armies of the Seven Kingdoms." Despite his flirting tone and his roughish smirk, he sounded genuinely interested, which was almost enough to stop Lyanna from rolling her eyes. _Almost._

"If I find the time," she just said before turning around, making sure to leave the stables through the opposite side than Robert, and didn't turn to look at the Red Viper of Dorne again even if she could _feel_ his dark eyes watching her every step until she was out of his sight.

* * *

Oberyn watched her leave and frowned once she was gone. He had not seen at first that she had been holding back her essence the entire time, but it seemed apparent that there had been something there as soon as she left, which only made his curiosity grow. He had met many warrior women during all his years, and knew that most of them wanted nothing from men but to have a good time. This one didn't seem to be one of those, or else she would not have been running away from Robert Baratheon, who was notorious for impregnating young and näive women. The King of Storm's End was handsome, he'd give him that much, but he was too much of a brute for Oberyn to like him. He thought, way too late, that he should have asked her how she had come to be betrothed to him if she didn't even want to talk to him. Shaking his head, the Prince of Dorne kept on brushing his sand-steed's mane, humming at the horse to keep him calmed.

He went to his chambers to get ready for the feast not long after and decided to put on an orange tunic that had red vipers along the sleeves, instead of the golden suns he usually wore. The truth was that he hated all those social meetings, he always had. Elia was the one who had been born to shine, and Doran the one who had been made and built to listen and play. He was the fighter, the shadow that loomed in the dark, the spear that cut through their enemies. Making alliances and breaking deals over wine and lies was not the way he liked to spend his evening. He'd rather drink the wine and hear the lies on a comfortable bed with some pretty lad or lady.

His sister joined him on the way to the Great Hall and Oberyn couldn't help but smile at her when he saw that she looked much better than the last time they'd met. Elia had not been well after Aegon had been born, for her body had been so damaged during the birth that it had needed some weeks to heal. But now, as she walked toward him, she was as radiant as sun, with golden cuffs on her wrists that shone when the light of the torches hit them, and a beautiful yellow dress with sleeves made of myrish lace.

"I'm so happy to see you." Elia hugged him tight and her brother kissed her forehead when she pulled away, offering her his arm to escort her.

"And I you," the prince smiled. "I was starting to think that your gentle husband had locked you up at the Red Keep."

Elia snorted and he could feel the power coming off of her in waves. It was alike his own and yet it felt so different. He knew that she had not intended to release it when she hid it as soon as she noticed it was unbound. Back in Dorne, centuries ago when they were younger and didn't have to care about court business, she would spend time riding and playing and laughing with him and their friends, unafraid to show her powers. Seeing the sadness that danced on her eyes now made him want to let his power burn that whole castle to the ground.

"You are welcomed to visit, you know." She squished his hand. "Rhaenys will be happy to see you again and I want you to meet Aegon."

Oberyn nodded, turning to her and trying to ignore all the people around them, which proved to be a rather difficult task seeing as all of them wanted to congratulate Elia for Aegon's birth.

"Your husband?" Oberyn asked her, half-hoping she would say he wasn't there, even if he knew he was, even if he had seen him flying around the castle the day before.

"He will arrive soon enough," Elia replied, before smiling at Willas Tyrell, who waved at them from across the room. "Ashara is somewhere around here too," she added.

But Oberyn was not listening, because his eyes have moved behind Willas, to where Robert Baratheon laughed with a group of his friends. One of them he recognized as a friend of his, someone with whom he had seen him that morning, and the others he didn't know. But the girl…

She was no longer wearing her leather clothes and he was not sure if he liked that fact or not because, if she had looked wild and intriguing at midday dressed like a warrior, she looked as good now. She wasn't facing him, focused on talking to the man next to her. Her hair was no longer braided, instead, most of it fell down her back, resembling a waterfall of dark waters, and some of it was placed on little braids at the back of her head. She was wearing a heavy, dark blue gown, simpler than those the other ladies in the room wore, tight enough that he could see her slim waist, with fitted sleeves that covered her arms. Her breasts were more generous than he had thought at first.

"What is it?" Elia inquired next to him, and Oberyn looked away to place his eyes back on his sister's, so full of cunning and power, almost as if they could read through him.

"I'm certain I've never seen them before." He pointed toward the group he had been staring at with his head and Elia nodded.

"No wonder you've never met them, they never attend social gatherings," she explained, and seeing that her brother still looked lost, added, "Those two are King Rickard Stark's children."

Oberyn wanted to laugh. He had known that she was of the North as soon as he had seen her but he had just assumed by her appearance that she was nothing but a member of the northerner army, nothing but a bastard-born nobody. And she hadn't even tried to tell him he had been mistaken. He should have found it odd, he thought, that Robert Baratheon would marry below his station, especially since they were rumours that said he liked to father bastards all around Westeros but denied that he did and never took care of them.

Across the room, the man that Elia had pointed to be Lyanna's brother bend a little to whisper something in her ear, making her laugh. Her laugh had not yet died when she turned her head, finally seeing him across the room. Oberyn smiled, his power coming out of him in waves, warm and strong. Her grey eyes lingered on his for a moment longer before she looked back at her brother.

"Oberyn," Elia whispered. A warning.

The Red Viper was still smirking when he turned to his sister, accepting the cup of wine she was offering, and seeing the alarm inside her eyes.

"Sister," he purred.

"She's betrothed to Robert Baratheon. He's been bragging about it all day, apparently."

Oberyn nodded.

"I know. Lyanna told me."

He was delighted when he saw the surprise that decorated his older sister's features. Taking a long sip of her cup, Elia pressed her lips together.

"You know her name?"

"We talked," the prince said, knowing that not knowing details would set off Elia's imagination. He was sure that the things she would imagine would be much more fun than what had truly happened.

As Rhaegar Targaryen entered the room, the rubies that decorated his fingers shining under the light just as his wife's golden jewellery did, and his clothes as dark as the wings that he tucked in tight so they wouldn't rustle anything or hit anyone, the whole aura of the place seemed to change under his power. Targaryen's really loved making a spectacle of everything. The silver prince smiled when his violet eyes met his wife's black ones, and he bent to place a soft kiss to Elia's lips. Oberyn looked away, draining the contents of his cup, and forced himself to greet his brother-in-law politely when he addressed him.

* * *

To say that she was bored would have been an understatement. Of course, Lyanna was excited to get to see and meet members of other houses, ladies and lords, princes and princesses from other kingdoms, but, after a while, the party tired her. Ned was a great company but lords and ladies alike demanded his attention, and he had no option but to talk to them. And Robert tried to keep her occupied, but he just didn't seem to know what to talk to her about. So she spent most of the night with Maege, who had walked in the Great Hall of Harrenhal wearing her battle clothes and had broken the nose of a lord from the Riverlands when he had laughed about her. But after a while, even her best friend had gone away, and was busy playing a drinking game with some lesser immortals she didn't even know.

"You look miserable." A voice said behind her and the princess of winter didn't have to turn to know that he had claimed the seat that Ned had emptied hours before, right next to her.

"Do I now?" She rolled her eyes before turning to look at the dornish prince. She shouldn't have been surprised to find him smirking at her. "Are you here to make me company then, _your grace_?"

"If that's what you wish, _princess_. Because that's what you are, isn't it, Lyanna Stark?" He purred her name, grabbing a jug of wine to refill her empty cup. She didn't thank him. "I must admit, you fooled me. Would have never thought you were a princess."

"Because I was wearing men clothes?" She seemed outraged all of a sudden and Oberyn could have sworn he _felt_ the air around them turning colder. "If it is a lady you want, viper, go find one, and stop bothering me."

The coldness in her words made him stare at her with curious eyes. He could see that there was something behind them, some kind of story she didn't want to remember. Some kind of frozen anger. And anger – anger he knew way too well.

"Was that wicked tongue of yours the one that won you Robert's heart, I wonder."

Lyanna closed her eyes for a moment, containing herself, not wanting to lash out at him. There were too many people around them and he was not worth her anger, even if the way he stared at her, as though he could see right through her, made her wrath.

"That's something you should ask Robert, don't you think?" she answered after a moment of silence.

"Maybe I will," Oberyn nodded. "As soon as he stops staring at me like he's going to smash my head, that's it."

Lyanna followed his gaze, taking another sip of her wine, and found Robert staring at them from another table, as he spoke with a golden haired man that she assumed was a Lannister. Oberyn had been right, the King of the Stormlands was staring at them even as his companion spoke to him, his blue eyes fixed on the prince sitting next to her, as though he was ready to jump and kill him at any moment. As though she needed to be protected, controlled, defended like she was some kind possession or a piece of land. She didn't notice the frozen cup that she now held between her fingers until she heard Oberyn's little gasp. Setting it down on the table, she pushed herself back, muttering an excuse and not even turning to see if the viper answered her. She managed to get out of the room easily and walked down a corridor until she reached a balcony, and leaned against the railing. The sky was dark as a wolf's mouth, and there were no stars to be seen. When the princess rested her hands on the railing, frost covered it and she bit her lip.

Warm arms wrapped around her waist suddenly, and it startled her for a moment before she noticed who it was.

"Are you alright?" Ned asked, moving to stand next to her and kissing her brow.

Lyanna smiled at him.

"I'm fine." Half a lie. "Robert's stares were making me uncomfortable and I needed some air."

Eddard nodded, pressing his lips together. And they stood in silence for a while, staring at the blackness in front of them as the ice from Lyanna's hands drifted away, hiding itself again inside of her, and she relaxed.

"He wasn't the only one."

"Mmm?" Lyanna frowned and her brother looked down at her.

"Robert wasn't the only one staring," he explained, making a face. "You were talking to the Red Viper of Dorne, Lya. The whole room was whispering."

The princess rolled her eyes, moving a lock of hair that had set itself free from one of the braids behind her ear, and then placed her grey eyes on her older brother.

"I was telling him to mind his own business." Frustrated, not at him but at the whole situation, she groaned. "But even if I had been really talking to him or even inviting him to my bed..."

"Lya!"

"It wouldn't have been their bloody business, Ned!" she finished, raising her voice slightly. The air around them shifted, turning colder, and the stone under their feet froze, not that Eddard noticed it. "I don't know if I will ever like Robert, but I know that I don't like this place. I don't like the south."

Ned's smile was as sweet as a peach when he nodded at her, raising his hand to stroke her cheek.

"I was starting to think you'd lost your fire," he giggled. "I will not see you married to anyone you don't want to be married to. Besides, we have an eternity ahead of us, if Robert loves you, he shall wait for you, and if he doesn't…well, then at least you won't be bound to him forever."

Lyanna made a face. She knew that wasn't what their father wanted, and even if her heart melted at the love and concern her brother felt for her, she didn't want that stupid little thing to bring war upon her home and her father's court.

"Robert will be wrath."

Ned raised an eyebrow at her, and placing an arm around her shoulders, he stared back at the starless night before them.

"I will handle him," he swore, kissing her forehead, and Lyanna rested her head against his shoulder.

"You know I can help you if it comes to a fight, right?"

Eddard laughed.

"I hope it doesn't. We don't want all those lords and ladies to end up turned into ice cubes."

"We don't?" She joined his laugh.

They spent some more time at the balcony, enjoying the quietness of the night, before walking back in and joining everyone again. Lyanna didn't stay long, though, for Maege looked like she had drank every barrel of wine from the castle on her own and needed someone to help her find her chambers. Once her friend was settled, the princess went to her own chambers to retire for the night.

* * *

Robert broke his fast with the Stark siblings the following morning, but he said nothing about the engagement and treated Lyanna as he always had, but the princess knew that her brother had spoken to him, telling him that she did not wish to get married any time soon. Lyanna didn't know if Robert expected her to change her mind and marry him some time in the future, but she didn't dare ask.

The princess of winter joined Maege at the courtyard after bidding farewell to her brother and his friend. The she-bear had challenged some of the southern lords to fight the previous night. And they had laughed at her, of course. Lyanna couldn't wait to see her friend make all of them bite the dust. She was already at it when she got there, with an axe in each hand, and laughing despite the healing cut that she had on her cheek.

"You are teaching him our ways, I see." She smiled and stood not far away from where the fighters were standing.

The Tyrell lad, one whose name Lyanna didn't know, groaned at Maege and the lady laughed playfully.

"You know me, Lya. I just can't help myself." She smirked before her opponent launched himself at her.

But Maege whirled away. As the Tyrell struck nothing but air, she slammed his butt with the back of one of her axes, whistling at him. Red with anger, the male turned and charged after her again. She took the blow with a sigh, stopping his sword by crossing her axes when it descended on her.

"Can she turn into a bear?" Oberyn Martell asked, and Lyanna tried not to jump. She hadn't heard him approaching her, but he now was standing right next to her, so close that their arms brushed slightly when she moved to look at him.

"What?"

"Your men," he said, "They call her she-bear."

Lyanna frowned at him. "And yours call you red viper," she pointed out. "Can you turn into one, your grace?"

He laughed, but the princess' had already turned her eyes back to her friend, only to find that blood was trickling from her nose. Maege used the axe from her left hand to block another attack from her opponent, and then moved it, making the Tyrell's sword go flying away from his hand. Before the poor boy could react, the visibly angered lady of Bear Island used the back of her other axe to struck him in the face. And he fell right next to his sword, coughing blood.

"Your friend is really a force to be reckoned with." Oberyn was still smiling. "It has been a while since I saw Loras lose."

Lyanna answered his smile, proud of her friend. Maege had found a new opponent and the princess turned her eyes from her to look around the courtyard. After a moment of silence, she turned to the dornish prince again. Her grey eyes were as cold as the North she came from when they met his.

"Is this how you have decided to spend your days?" she asked, "Stalking me?"

Oberyn shook his head, and his smirk left as quickly as it had come, his glare turning serious. Had he thought she was really offended?

"I must apologize for whatever I did to make you angry yesterday night."

Before she could help it, Lyanna snorted and then let out a laugh, shaking her head and making her long braid fall down her left shoulder.

"It takes more than a pompous prince to make me angry."

Oberyn stared down at her as she looked away from him once more, deliberately ignoring him, and he couldn't stop the smirk that once again decorated his features. It still worried him, of course, the way she had reacted the previous night, both because he was intrigued by the magic she had displayed and because he hadn't intended to do nothing but flirt with her.

"What do you mean by _pompous_?" he asked, slightly outraged, and she laughed cheerfully.

Across the yard, Oberyn met his sister's eyes. She raised her eyebrow at him but the red viper just rolled his eyes.

"Would you care to go riding, my lady?" he asked the northerner princess and was delighted, and slightly scared, when a wicked smile decorated her beautiful face.

"I'd put you to shame," she stated.

His dark eyes burned as if he could see into her soul, and he licked his lips before answering. "I don't know about that, princess, I've been told I'm an _excellent_ rider."

It took her a moment to understand the meaning of his words, but when she did heat rose to her cheeks and she blushed, even as she gave him a glare that could have frozen him were he stood.

"Let's go, then, viper." She turned around and started walking toward the stables, her boots hitting the gravel hard.

Oberyn followed.

* * *

To say that she surprised him would have been an understatement. They rode for a while, and her horse –Winter- proved to be faster than his steed. Lyanna reached the lake long before he did, beating him mercilessly, something that very few could manage. She had tied her horse to a tree and he did the same with his. She was sitting next to the water and the prince joined her before he spoke, aware of the victorious smile dancing on her lips.

"An immortal princess who doesn't brag about being a princess, a warrior that fights for her people, an amazing rider…You are not what I expected from a northern lady, Lyanna Stark."

She snorted though her noise. "I'm under the impression you don't know much about northerner ladies."

He nodded, letting her know that she was right. "I've been to many places, but never the North."

And just like that, he was telling her about Essos and about all those places in the Seven Kingdoms that she was yet to visit. She marvelled at his tales of Volantis and Braavos, and heard without moving as he spoke of the different and exotic cultures he had seen while travelling through the Free Cities. After a while, Oberyn discovered that, even if she had seen so little of the world, she was well read, and loved art and history, and enjoyed dancing and fighting in equal measure. And he found himself telling her about his daughters, both because he adored talking about his girls and because he wanted to see her reaction, half expecting her to snarl at him. But Lyanna didn't seem to have a problem with bastards, and encouraged him to tell her more about them. By the time he was done, Oberyn was certain Lyanna was already half in love with his daughter Nym.

"It must be really amazing to feel that free." Lyanna muttered when he was done talking, and he suspected that she was taking more to herself than to him.

They spent some more time in silence, just lying on the grass, until the prince spoke once more, genuinely curious. "Your powers," he said, "What can you do with them?"

Her grey eyes studied him as though she was trying to deem him worthy of sharing her secrets. After a moment, Lyanna moved her hand to caress the water's surface, and Oberyn didn't understand was she was doing until he _felt_ it. Her essence. The red viper had known she was strong, for any member of a Great House would be, but he hadn't expected the power that he felt coming out of her in waves. It overwhelmed. How she could contain all of it inside of her, he didn't know.

Under the prince's gaze, the water of the lake turned to ice at Lyanna's silent command, and the air around them turned so cold it was hard to remember it was spring. Barely seconds later, there was no drop of water that hadn't solidified. The she-wolf turned to him and shrugged, and Oberyn laughed.

"Impressive," he smiled.

"I probably shouldn't have done it, though." She concealed her powers, her essence, again, hiding it somewhere deep inside of her soul, and yet the dornishman could still feel some of it, maybe because he had already been allowed to witness it.

"Why? Your strength doesn't scare me, princess."

Lyanna shook her head. "No. I mean, it should, but that's not what I meant." There was a shy smile on her lips. "The problem is I _can't_ undo it."

Oberyn roared with laughter and, much to her surprise, Lyanna joined him. If anyone could see him...The Red Viper of Dorne laughing like he was a little child. Not so much of a mighty, deadly, fearless immortal warrior, that one.

"Maybe we should leave it that way and see what kind of trouble you get into," he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes.

Tearing his eyes from her, though, the red viper let his own power run free. The moment his essence filled the air around them, he felt her stiff next to him, but didn't dare look, knowing that if she _were_ looking at him the way he was guessing she was looking at him, he wouldn't be able to pretend he had not been trying to court her. Instead, he moved his hands toward the now frozen lake, and rabid flames galloped through the surface, slowly melting the bitter ice beneath them.

"How do you do that?" Lyanna asked, her left hand reaching to rest on his forearm as her grey eyes turned to his obsidian ones.

"Same way you do, I guess." The ice was gone, and he summoned the flames back, extinguishing them. "It comes naturally."

The she-wolf stared at him for a while longer, and Oberyn found her unable to read, so he just stared back. But then Lyanna shook her head, moving a lock of hair that had gotten free from her braid behind her ear, and stood, gracefully walking away from him.

"Ready to lose again, viper?" She was already near the horses and he was quick to follow.

"Not a chance, princess." But Lyanna was already sitting on Winter's back and laughed at him before making the horse turn back toward the forest and trotted away.

Even as he went after her, Oberyn knew he wouldn't win.

* * *

Lyanna couldn't help staring at the red viper as they walked out of the stables. If she hadn't promise herself not to let him know that she was actually enjoying his company, she would have let her excitement show. The prince of Dorne had turned out to be quite a good company, and she tried to tell herself that was the only reason why she felt like she wanted to spend more time with him. Deep down, though, she knew there was something else. Shaking her head, the princess tried to forget the way his power had made her shiver from head to toe.

"Is there any chance of seeing you spar any time soon?" Oberyn asked her as they walked into the palace and she shook her shoulders.

"If you are ready to lose against me again," she answered, the shadow of a smile dancing on her lips. She knew it was impossible for her to win a fight against the red viper, though. And as he smirked at her, his dark eyes shining with a light that Lyanna was sure had made a thousand foes tremble, she was certain he knew too.

It looked like Oberyn was going to say something, but two other immortals joined them before he could. One of them, Lyanna knew was his sister, for she had seen her with him during the feast the previous night. Even if she hadn't, the princess knew she would have guessed it anyway, because both Martell siblings had the same dark eyes and hair, and resembled each other as much as Lyanna and her brother Ned did.

"Sister, Ashara," Oberyn saluted before Elia could speak.

"Oberyn," Elia smiled, "Who is your friend?"

Not willing to let him speak for her and introduce her as though she wasn't even there, Lyanna smiled at the princess. "I'm Lyanna Stark. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The dornish princess returned the smile, and there was something calculating in her eyes, even if her features were warm and welcoming. The lady next to her bowed her head at her, also smiling.

"Don't do that, please," Lyanna asked, "There's no need."

The lady's violet eyes rose to meet hers and the princess of the North was certain she had never seen a female so beautiful. It was a mystery she didn't belong to any of the Great Houses.

"I thought Daynes of Starfall were supposed to bow before a Stark of Winterfell," Ashara replied with a playful tone.

"I'm just Lyanna," the she-wolf smiled. "And I hate people bowing to me. So don't do it, please."

Ashara laughed cheerfully, and the princess was certain she had never seen a lady look so lovely or be so breathtakingly beautiful.

"If you will excuse us, ladies," Oberyn interrupted them, "I intend to return Lyanna to her brother before he comes searching for her and calling for my head." He walked past them, obviously expecting Lyanna to follow.

" _Return_?" she repeated, "What am I, something you borrowed?"

He laughed as she caught up with him. " _She-wolf_ ," he muttered, shaking his head, and the princess of winter, behaving as the princess she was, punched his arm, but she was smiling when Oberyn looked down at her as they strode down the corridor. Behind them, Princess Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne exchanged a knowing look.


	2. Heir of ice

Lyanna gasped, rolling to the side and retrieving her fallen sword before jumping to stand on her feet again. She put as much distance as she could between her and the prince, fighting to regain her breath. He just gave her a feline smile. The princess had known he was good, but she hadn't known he was _that_ good. The knowing smirk on his face made her want to punch him.

"Tired already, my lady?" he taunted her, turning his spear on his hand with the ability that centuries of fighting had given him.

"Just getting started," Lyanna replied, though she felt like dropping to the floor and sleeping for a week.

The sun had just risen in the horizon when they had met at the back side of the enormous castle, in the gardens, and it was high in the sky now. Lyanna's braids were half undone and she was not only tied but also angry. Angry because it had been a long time since anyone had made her sweat that much. Even Brandon would have yielded to her by now.

"Are you sure?" He moved around her, like a wolf circling his pray. "Because it seems to me that you could use a break."

He moved his spear to rest behind his neck and on his shoulders, and she gave him a sweet smile, giving a step toward him. Letting him think that she was defeated. Oberyn opened his mouth, as if to say something, but she was quicker. She dropped to the grass, thrusting her sword into the ground and using it to support her body as she moved her legs under Oberyn's. He fell backward, muttering a curse, and hit the ground hard. He made to stand only to find Lyanna's steel on his neck, as the princess smirked at him, her face inches away from his.

"I win," Lyanna declared, pride filling her voice.

Oberyn blinked. Then blinked again. Then he laughed and the sound was so contagious that the princess chuckled. He should have not forgotten that she was not a pray for him to devour but a wolf with frozen claws.

"You can move your sword now," he pointed out, noticing that her steel was still on his throat. It was Lyanna who blinked that time, suddenly aware of how close they still were, and stood, offering him her hand.

The prince rubbed the back of his head as soon as he was standing again. "That hurt," he complained and followed her back to the other side of the castle.

"You are such a baby," she laughed at him, and he gave her a hard stare, embers dancing in the dark coals of his eyes, but if he thought to scare her, he should have tried harder.

Oberyn didn't answer as they made their way inside the massive castle. He just stared at her, because she had surprised him. Even if he had known that she knew how to fight, that she was comfortable in her fighting leathers, he hadn't actually expected her to last that much against him. And he certainly hadn't expected her to out-best him. The surprise was not unwelcomed at all, though. He played with his spear on his left hand and frowned at her.

"Did your father give you that sword?"

Lyanna shook her head, her grey eyes rising to meet his gaze. "It was a gift from my brothers, as well and a pair of twin daggers."

"You have them on you?" he inquired.

The princess looked at him through hooded eyes. To lie or tell the truth…She just smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't be doing a great job at protecting myself if I told you, would I?"

Oberyn gave her a smirk. She didn't have them; he had enough experience with weapons to know that already. After all, he had been the one to teach his second daughter how to conceal enough daggers in her clothes to be a walking armoury. The red viper didn't tell her that, though, amused as he had been with her answer. His smile dropped, when Robert Baratheon turned the corner at the opposite side of corridor.

"Ignore him," Lyanna whispered next to him, tensing.

" _He_ won't ignore us," he replied, and had been right because, even if the corridor, as everything in that damned half-burned castle, was huge, the King of the Stormlands walked straight to them, his blue eyes filled with storms.

"Lya," Robert smiled at her and reached for her hand, placing a kiss on the back of her palm. His eyes were on the red viper, though, and the princess hated it. Not only because he was surely thinking that they had been doing things that they hadn't been doing, but also because, as she had told her brother, what she did or didn't do was none of anyone's bloody business. "Ned told me you were away," he continued, finally moving his eyes to her. His smiled turned kind.

"Yes," the princess nodded, moving her hand to rest on the prince's shoulder, "Oberyn was showing me some of his moves."

She didn't dare to look at Oberyn as she spoke, but by the look Robert gave him she was sure the viper was smirking. A sudden warmness reached her, and the hand that was still touching him shivered. His power. A warning for the Storm King.

"And we should keep going," he added, "we had plans to go ridding, after all."

Lyanna had to bite her lower lip not to laugh, and nodded when Robert's disbelieving eyes met her own. "Right, we should go."

Another polite smile and they were walking down the corridor in silence. It wasn't until they were far away from there, far away from the rage that was coming out of Robert in waves, that Lyanna laughed, and Oberyn joined her.

"Such a wicked thing you are, princess"

"Wicked? For telling him the truth? Have I not spent the morning learning some of your fighting moves?" She couldn't stop laughing, because it felt good to be able to do as she wanted for once.

"You _know_ what he was thinking, Lyanna." Would she ever stop surprising him? Such a fine partner she was and such a great company.

"Well, let him think." It was then that she noticed her hand was resting on his forearm and moved it away. "Maybe he'll leave me alone at last."

They remained silent for a while and, as they reached Lyanna's solar, Oberyn turned to her. "You should freeze him if he doesn't," he advised her, "let the south know what the She-Wolf of Winterfell can do."

"Robert has brothers. They would retaliate." She made a face, and it was fun to see that seemed to be the only thing holding her back.

He left her after that, and strode down the corridor and down the stairs to his own chambers. It wasn't until he had discarded his clothes and was getting inside the warm tub of his bathroom, that Oberyn noticed he was still smiling.

* * *

Lyanna was sitting at the dining table stuffing some stew in her mouth when her brother came in. He took his dark leather jacket off and left it on one of the chairs before moving to sit next to her, his grey eyes rising to meet hers.

"What?" she asked with her mouth full of food, and then took her glass of wine to help her swallow it all.

"So," he started, "why did Robert tell me that you have been, and I quote, screwing the Red Viper of Dorne?"

The princess almost chocked, even if Ned's words were not entirely unexpected. She had known from the moment she had talked to the King of Storm's End that he would go to tell Ned, it was half the reason she had done it. A test for Robert, one that he had miserably failed.

"I'm not, okay?" she assured him, "Robert is just letting his imagination run free."

Ned let his head fall to rest between his hands, visibly troubled, and Lyanna messed his hair, laughing. "You worry too much," she pointed out, going back to eating her stew.

"One of us had to, right?" Ned laughed too, but then he turned serious again. "I don't care about what you do, Lya, as long as you are safe and happy. But Robert is my friend, and he keeps saying that he loves you."

Lyanna shrugged.

"Maybe he does," she said, "or maybe he just thinks he does. Whatever his reasons he has no right to think himself my owner."

"He doesn't."

"Yes, he does, Ned." Lyanna cut him off, and Ned nodded. Not wanting to keep on discussing the matter, she smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. "So, what is this that you have been doing since yesterday?"

Her brother's eyes drifted away from her and to her food, and he took the liberty of stealing some of it. "What do you mean?" he asked, pouring a glass of wine for himself.

"What I mean, big brother, is that your room is across from mine, and I know you didn't sleep there last night."

Ned still didn't meet her eyes and she could almost _see_ his mind working, thinking, trying to find something to say, and trying to decide to tell her the truth or not. She didn't push him, because she knew that Ned was of a private nature, and would only tell her if he was ready. At last, he turned to her, colour rising to his cheeks.

"I met her some decades ago," he confessed, a smile finding its way to his lips, "and we hadn't even spoken in a long time but I saw her again yesterday and…" he let out a shy laugh.

Lyanna chuckled happily and Eddard shook his head, knowing what she was going to say even before she spoke.

"Can I meet her?"

"Lya…" he put his hand on hers, "Not yet. I don't want anyone knowing about us."

The princess was still smiling as she nodded at him. She should have guessed that he wouldn't. Not because of him, of course, for men were granted the liberty to do whatever they pleased with their eternity, but because of his lover, so others wouldn't gossip about her. Whoever the girl was, if anyone dared say something about her, though, Lyanna was certain they'd find themselves trapped in ice and frozen to death before they could run away. Ned was indeed the calmer of all of her siblings, but that didn't mean he was any less lethal.

* * *

She was lost.

She had left her chambers soon after finishing her lunch, and had headed for the library of the castle, which she had heard was as big as a castle itself. But she couldn't find it. She didn't even know where she was. Groaning in frustration she rested against the wall nearest to her, closing her eyes.

"Are you alright?" a female voice asked, and Lyanna opened her eyes to find Ashara Dayne staring at her, a smile on her beautiful face.

"No," the princess confessed, "I was looking for the library but I'm sure it's safe to say that I'm utterly lost."

Ashara's lips moved, as though she wanted to smile or laugh and Lyanna wouldn't have blamed her if she had. Instead, the dornish lady walked toward her, moving a lock of her dark her behind her ear and raising her violet eyes to Lyanna's grey ones.

"I could show you the way," she offered.

"Thank you," the princess nodded as Ashara made her turn to the corridor on their left.

The dornish lady's lilac dress floated around them both as they walked and Lyanna chatted happily with her as they strode down the castle, asking her about her homeland. And was surprised to find that it had been years since Ashara had last seen Starfall.

"Princess Elia moved to Dragonstone and I went with her," the lady shrugged.

"Such loyalty. Not many people would have done it."

But Ashara shook her head. "It was out of love for my friend, not duty to my country. I didn't want her to be alone in a place she did not know."

Lyanna nodded silently, a smile on her lips, and looked her from head to toe. Seeing this lady before her, she wondered how Elia Nymeros Martell behaved with her people to inspire them in such a way.

"There you have it," Ashara informed, pointing at a pair of giant wooden doors at the end of the hall, "and, not to be rude, you should try not to get lost inside."

The princess laughed. "I'll try. Thank you again, my lady."

Ashara bowed her head at her before turning around to leave, and Lyanna didn't have the heart to tell her again that it wasn't necessary for her to do that. Shaking her head, she headed for the library, and stood in awe as soon as she opened the doors.

The library was a castle on its own and the princess couldn't see the end of it from where she stood under the massive door frame. The walls were covered by shelves filled with books and books and more books. And the shelved themselves were art, carved in intricate patterns. The great columns of dark stone that rose from the floor to the ceiling were carved to resemble a pair of great chains that tangled in one another. A terrifying thing that had been a part of Harren the Black's coat of arms and remained in his castle eons after he had been burnt alive by the first Targaryen King.

Feeling like she was going to get lost inside of it but not caring much about it, Lyanna walked into the room with a smile on her face. There weren't many people inside, at least not that she could see, so she started walking fast between the bookshelves, reading the titles of the books and taking some out to inspect them before putting them back. It took her a while to understand how the volumes were organized but when she did she began her search for anything that spoke of her motherland. In the end the princess found a whole section that spoke about the first Kings of the North and took some of them to a nearby table to read.

It was reading a chronicle about King Brandon the Builder and his fight against the immortal demons that lay up in the north in the forsaken lands of always winter, that Oberyn found her hours later. Unlike most times he approached her, when she would not feel his presence until he was standing so close to her that she could feel his breath against her neck when he spoke, Lyanna felt him as soon as he neared the table. If it was because spending time with the red viper had made her more sentient to his essence or because of something else, she didn't know.

"Here I was," he smiled, "calling you she-wolf when in truth you are a bookworm."

"Stalking again, prince?" She didn't raise her eyes from the book.

"Hiding," he replied, moving the chair that was next to her and sitting on it, moving his legs to rest his boots on the table. "I'm supposed to be on a meeting with my brother-in-law right now."

Lyanna finally moved her grey eyes to him, only to find him inspecting one of the books she had left on the table with a frown.

"Won't your brother be angry at you for not attending?" she asked. Oberyn and Elia's older brother was King Doran Nymeros Martell of Dorne and his little brother was supposed to act as his ambassador.

"My brother knows I love serving my country almost as much as I dislike my sister's husband," he shrugged as if it didn't matter, and reached for the book that was still between her hands, ignoring her protests. " _King Brandon Stark and the fight against the monsters of winter_ ," he read, "I'm certain you already know this story."

"So what? It's one of my favourites." She managed to take it back and resumed her reading. "I must admit that southerner miss some of the most important parts of the tale, though."

Without replying, he stood from the chair and walked away from the princess, disappearing behind piles and piles of books. She should have known better than to think he was gone for good, because he came back several minutes later, interrupting her once again and setting a book next to her. Lyanna raised an eyebrow at him when she saw the title.

"What? You do know who Nymeria was, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she nodded.

Everyone knew who the ruler of Ny Sar had been. And though the princess had been born across the Narrow Sea, in Essos, she had led her people to safety when the Valyrian Empire had attacked their homeland. Upon her arrival to Westeros, she had fought by King Mors of House Martell on the dornish wars and had ended up marrying him, becoming his queen. Eons later, the members of House Martell still had her fire running through their veins, as Oberyn had showed her the day before.

"I have a feeling you'll like this one," he smirked at her and then said something in a language that Lyanna didn't understand.

"If you are going to address me in Rhoynish I might as well start talking to you in the Old Tongue." A warning that the red viper didn't seem to mind. It looked like he was going to say something but shut his mouth when a young man approached the table, bowing low before them.

"Princess Elia is asking for you, Majesty."

Oberyn groaned in frustration and for a moment Lyanna though that the human servant who had delivered his sister's message was going to piss himself. She felt bad for the poor boy.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the backyard?" she asked, turning his attention to her again.

The dornish prince gave her a wolfish grin. "Of course, princess." And then he stood, winking at her, and walked away, the servant following closely, until he was out of her sight and she focused again on her reading.

After trying thrice, and failing, to finish the page, Lyanna set _King Brandon Stark and the fight against the monsters of winter_ away and reached for _The loves of Queen Nymeria,_ curiosity seizing her.

* * *

It was hard to wake up the next morning because her body complained for the early hours, and her eyes still burned from having spent a long time reading under the candlelight after dinner the previous evening. Truth was that the life of the Rhoynish Queen had turned out to be more interesting that she had previously thought, though there were parts of it –most of them concerning her lovers– that made her blush and burn. It only made her read faster, and she had already finished the book.

Lyanna managed somehow to get into her leather clothes and out of the castle, after eating some breakfast on her own, not wanting to disturb Ned. It was no surprise to find Oberyn waiting for her. It was a surprise, though, to see that he hadn't brought his spear.

"You look awful," he grinned, "did you not sleep at all?"

"I thought we were practicing," she said, ignoring his commentary, "where is your spear?"

The prince stood from where he had been sitting on the grass, the feline grin not leaving his lips, and golden flames flickered between his fingers. Lyanna watched wide eyed as the flames changed and took shape, turning into a spear of red and orange and golden, the heat of its power hitting her even if there was still a considerable distance between them. She could have sworn that even his dark eyes were glowing.

"Do you want me to fight fire with steel? I'm not that stupid, viper, I'd ruin my sword."

"I want you to put the sword away and fight me with that ice of yours."

At first she thought he was joking, but one look told her that he wasn't. She bit her lower lip, and confessed in a whispered, "I have no idea of how to do that."

So he taught her. He made his spear of fire disappear and told her how to reach inside of her power to channel it into whatever she wanted it to be. And she failed miserably. But the prince didn't laugh at her or tell her that it had been a bad idea. Instead, he told her to try again and again.

"Try to produce a ball of ice in your hand," Oberyn whispered, showing her how he did it with his own power, and she had to concentrate not to let herself get lost in the feeling of that power around her.

"I feel pathetic." Her ice was there, calling at her, begging to be released, but she knew that if she let it out she would end up freezing the clearing where they stood and the trees behind them.

Focused as she was staring at her empty palm, she didn't see him moving closer to her until he spoke, his breath caressing the skin of her neck, so close to her earlobe, and making her jump, "You are not concentrated, princess."

And her power exploded, waves of ice coming out of her and freezing the grass around them, the air turning as cold as it was on the northern mountains. The dornish prince laughed next to her, and she rolled her eyes at him, unamused and aware of the closeness between them.

"Some sleep would have helped," Oberyn noted, as snakes of fire melted the mess she had created.

"Maybe if I had been warned about what you planned to do, I would have been fully rested," Lyanna replied, already feeling drained. How long had they been there?

The viper made a face, smirking at her, "I have a feeling you were enjoying the _adventures_ of Queen Nymeria so much that even if you had wanted to sleep you wouldn't have been able to do so."

His dark eyes seemed to glow again and the princess could have sworn that he could see inside of her very soul. Her power sparked again but she kept it quiet and hidden. "You just love to hear yourself talk, don't you?"

Oberyn was still smirking and he had the effrontery of winking at her. "Try again," he just said.

* * *

By the time they walked into the castle for lunch, Lyanna was panting, and Oberyn was ready to pick her at any time, fearing that she would fall. She was powerful, he had seen that the day at the lake, but if that power was left unchecked and untrained he feared that she would lose control and drain herself at once, which could be physically painful for her.

"So, your brothers have never learnt to use their strength for battle either?" he asked as they made their way to her solar.

"Why would they need to when they can summon a blizzard that would make any enemy retreat?" Was her reply, and, when the princess looked at him, he couldn't stop himself from putting a hair strand that had run free from her braid behind her ear.

"Fair enough," he shrugged.

"But I'd like to learn," she added. The smile on her lips was genuine, and the prince's eyes lingered on her even after she looked away. Her brown hair was a mess and her braid was almost undone, there was colour in her checks, and her essence was still around her, as if she had forgotten to hide it. It called to him somehow, and he knew he was in trouble.

Oberyn frowned when they reached the Stark siblings' solar, because there was a familiar scent around it, and it had lingered. Promising himself that he would ask Elia about why Ashara Dayne may have wanted to visit the chamber, he bid Lyanna farewell, but not before teasing her and asking her about the book he had recommended her. The truth was that he had only done it because he had wanted to see if she'd feel outraged by it. After all, there was nothing decorous or proper about the loves of the fearless and positively wicked queen of the rhoynish.

"Oh, I already finished it," the princess' smile was feral before she walked into the chamber, not giving him time to answer.

It was the thought of those bright grey eyes and that smile that haunted Oberyn all the way back to his own chambers, his magic, _his power_ , still dancing in golden embers around him, as if it had found a match and did not want to go back to hiding.

* * *

The She-Wolf and the Red Viper met again the next morning, and before they decided to stop their training, Lyanna had managed to master her magic enough to summon a shield of ice. It had been more out of necessity and fear than actual concentration. She had had no choice but to shield herself, after all, when Oberyn had started throwing daggers of fire at her face. When the princess had snarled at him, teeth showing and eyes glowing, he had just excused his actions by saying that she had needed some encouragement, and promising he'd never harm her pretty face on purpose. Lyanna had ignored the compliment completely.

By the time she was done with lunch, her whole immortal body ached, and she decided to put the leathers away for the rest of the day, choosing to wear a grey, longed sleeved, dress with a black-and-white direwolf embroidered over the front of it, right on top of her breasts, its back side and tail going all the way to her side.

And so the princess walked out of her chambers, crossing halls and getting out of the left wing of the castle, to the main yard near the great entrance doors, knowing she'd found Maege there, and hoping to catch Ned too, though she had a feeling her brother was sneaking around again.

She walked round the stables in time to see a young man fall to the ground, pushed by three squires that were laughing at him. They kicked him and one of them even hit him with a stick once he was down.

"Hey!" she roared at them, ice burning though her veins. Only one of the squires raised his eyes to look at her, but ignored her presence as she strode toward them. Across the yard, Maege Mormont and Domeric Bolton caught her eye, and the princess was dimly aware of them, walking toward her, as she finally caught up with the bullies.

The one with the stick raised his weapon again, ready to strike the crannogman, who was still crying on the floor, telling them to stop. The stick didn't reach its mark, though. Instead, it was met by a stick made of ice that made the wood of his own weapon crack. The squire's eyes, full of anger, moved to meet a pair of cold irises that were staring down at him, as the she-wolf put herself between him, his friends, and the man that was still on the floor.

"That's my father's man you are kicking." Lyanna made the stick of ice turn in her hand, her magic swinging around her, and hit the squire on the face, making him fall backward, coughing blood.

One of his friends was quick to move toward him, helping him stand, and the other made the mistake of trying to face the princess, who hit him in the arm with bone-breaking strength. Moments later, the three of them were running away, and not far away from her, Domeric Bolton laughed.

Lyanna knelt next to the crannogman, helping him straighten up. It was easy for her to lift him from the floor on her own and she refused Maege's help.

"Don't worry," she told him, even if she wasn't sure he was listening to her, "you are safe now."

The stick that she still held on her left hand turned to mist before her eyes, and even before finding him on the crowd that had come to stare at the crannogman and his rescuer, she knew he was behind it. Lyanna could have sworn that Oberyn's eyes were aflame when they met hers, and she had to look away, feeling her knees tremble and knowing that if she didn't stop staring at the dornish prince both the crannogman and her might fall face first to the floor.

"My lady…" he whispered weakly and she hushed him.

"Save your strength."

The princess brought him to the maesters on the lower levels of the castle, urging them to take care of him. The young master that healed his wounds promised that he'd bee fine soon enough but the crannogman, now fully aware of what had happened and of those around them, had eyes only for Lyanna.

"I owe you my life, my princess." His eyes were bright with tears of gratitude, and Lyanna shook her eyes.

"You owe me nothing," she swore, but was sure that would not change his mind. "What is your name?"

He winced as the master cleaned a wound he had on her left brow. "Howland Reed, my lady."

While she had suspected for his built and accent that he was a crannogman from the Neck, she hadn't known he'd be a Reed of Greywater Watch. He looked nothing more than a commoner. Then again, appearances could be deceiving.

"No one will lay a hand on you again, Lord Reed. You have my word."

The princess sent a servant to fetch her brother, wherever he might be, and waited with the crannogman until the master was done with him. He was still thanking her and bowing to her when Ned came in. Lyanna had to ask her big brother to help her convince Howland that so many reverences where not needed, and he did, even if he smiled at the whole situation. As they escorted the young lord to their own quarters so he may get to tell them how he had ended up at Harrenhal when he had not been part of the crew, Eddard couldn't stop himself from asking Lyanna about the rumours that were already spreading through the castle and said that a princess of House Stark had summoned ice to beat up some squires. His sister's answer was a wide smile.


	3. Ghost of Harrenhal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to update this, I've been really busy. But I want to thank Naomi because of how much she loves this story and for her kind words. This one's for you :)

As the weeks went by, Lyanna found herself falling into a schedule. She would break her fast with Eddard at their solar before training with Oberyn, and after it she would have a bath in her chambers before joining her brother for lunch. The afternoons were the time when Ned had meetings with other lords and princes, and even if he had not told her any details, Lyanna knew that her brother was trying to struck a profitable mercantile deal with King Hoster Tully. She wondered if that was the reason why she had seen him escorting Princess Catelyn Tully to the feast the night before, because she was certain the Tully girl _was not_ the lady he had been having an affair with. And in the afternoons, she would hide away in the library to look for more books, or she'd take Winter for a ride. The dornish prince would join her at times, and she had learnt that he was really invested in acting as ambassador for his kingdom, and held meetings with other lords almost every day. It seemed it was only Rhaegar Targaryen that he avoided. The princess of winter could only imagine what Elia Martell made of that fact.

That afternoon in particular, she found herself alone. Ned was holding a meeting with Jaime Lannister of Caterly Rock, King Tywin's son, which meant that she couldn't go back to their solar, and she was bored at the library. She also had no idea where Maege was. So, she stood from her chair and straightened the skirts of her dress before walking out of the massive room. The princess made her way to the stables, and easily found Winter, who seemed to cheer up as she approached. Dismissing a couple of stable boys who run toward her to saddle her horse, she did it herself, and then mounted Winter. The edge of her skirts moved up and swirled around her ankles as soon as she spurred the horse but, as soon as she felt the wind caressing her skin and her hair flying loose behind her, she forgot about it.

The princess was soon ridding out of the castle grounds and Winter and her seemed to fly as they crossed the forest. She only stopped when she reached the edge of the treelines and fixed her eyes across the clearing, to the lake, where a figure sat next to the water. As she approached him, the wind making her grey dress dance around her figure, she was certain he had felt her walking toward him, and didn't bother with greetings.

The Red Viper was sitting on the grass, a glass of wine in his left hand and a plate full of a fruit that Lyanna had never seen before resting next to him. He didn't raise his gaze to her as the princess of winter sat next to him with ease, but as soon as she was settled on the grass his obsidian eyes shot to meet her grey irises.

"Princess," he grinned. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"I was bored," was her answer, and she shrugged, aware of the grin that was still present in his features as she turned her gaze to the lake.

She was dimly aware of _something_ warm and soft stroking lazily against her magic as she rested back on her elbows, the sun sighing brighter than it had just a moment before. Instinctively, she leaned against that presence.

"It's good to see you'd seek me for your entertainment," Oberyn purred. As Lyanna turned to him, raising her eyebrow, he finished his drink, tossing the cup aside to reach for a piece of fruit.

"What's that?" the princess asked.

"This?" Oberyn leaned closer to her, taking a bright red seed from inside the fruit and placing it between his lips. After swallowing, he smiled, "Pomegranates."

Lyanna shook her head, for she had never encountered such a thing in the North and knew not what it was or what it tasted like. He guessed, of course, that her doubt was because she had never seen or eaten the fruit, and offered it to her. She could have throttled him for the grin that seemed to be ever present in his face. But still, knowing that if she refused she'd never hear the end of it, Lyanna reached for the seeds. Some of them broke under her fingers and sticky purple juice tainted her pale skin as she brought them to her lips. They smelled like the end of summer, sweet and heavy, and tasted like it too. She licked her lips, and found Oberyn staring fixedly at her.

The essence that had been leaning against hers seemed to shift, and the air around them turned hotter than it should have been for a spring afternoon. And maybe it was that which sprung the princess into action. And maybe she was too reckless or too stupid or the heat was depriving her from thinking straight but, suddenly, she was moving, leaning forward and closing the distance between them. Oberyn's lips were soft, softer than she had expected, and the feeling was beyond welcomed. The princess told herself that she hadn't intended to kiss him, that she hadn't wanted to do so for the past weeks, that she hadn't spent those last days wondering how his arms would feel around her, and yet she knew she couldn't fool herself. Lyanna was the one to pull away, her eyes opening widely as realization of what she had just done struck her.

As Lyanna made to move away, the prince of Dorne raised his hand to her neck, compelling her to stay where she was as his thumb stroke her cheek. She could have sworn his dark eyes were aflame. "Lyanna…" he purred, and her lips parted barely a moment before he sealed his mouth with hers again.

The prince pressed closer to her, diving into the welcoming heat of her mouth, swallowing the gasp she realised in response as his tongue licked its way into her mouth. He was the one to groan when the princess moved her hand to tangle her fingers in his dark curls, pulling as if she wanted nothing but to prolong the contact of skin with skin. And, as they breathed in each other, something around them shifted. And fire, blue as frost, danced around them, but didn't burn.

"Princess…" He tipped his head back and she groaned in protest, making as if she would follow his lips with her own. "Lyanna, wait." Even as he pushed away, the princess could see the fire burning in the dark pits of his eyes. The sight of it, knowing that he wanted her as she wanted him, made her shiver from head to toe.

"What?" she smiled despite herself. "Are you going to tell me that you are nervous, viper? Never been with a woman before?"

Oberyn groaned, letting out a breath that caressed her lips softly. They were still so close, and every part of his being was telling him to kiss her again. _Do you want to start a war?_ A voice that sounded suspiciously like Doran's whispered in the back of his mind. He ignored it, but didn't kiss her again.

"It's not my experience which concerns me," the prince confessed, moving a lock of her dark hair behind her ear. With a laugh, she leaned into his touch.

"Would you have stopped me if I weren't a princess of the North?" His hand was still on her cheek, and he laughed. Before Oberyn could say anything, though, Lyanna continued, her devilish grin matching his own. "You want this?"

"Of course, princess," Oberyn said, his voice barely a whisper against her lips.

Lyanna's eyes were drawn to his mouth again, before returning to his eyes once more, obsidian meeting freezing grey, and then they moved toward each other in sync, as if they had planned it, as if they were one mind. The princess' hands moved to grip the front of his tunic, pressing him closer, and she didn't complain when Oberyn lowered her onto her back in the grass and was forced to straddle her due to her hands still tagging at his clothes like claws. The red viper pulled away from her lips to breath moments later, though they felt like hours, and dragged his lips down her collarbone and to her neck, making her moan. Lyanna closed her eyes, feeling his wicked smile against the exposed skin of her neck before his canines pressed softly against her flesh. Every kiss he gave her, made her burn in a way she never thought she could.

"Oberyn…" She pulled at his hair, making him face her again, and an almost animalistic groan left his mouth before he claimed hers again, swallowing her moan. When his lungs demanded air, he pushed away, and Lyanna arched her back, painfully pressing against him as she made to follow his lips.

"We should go," he told her, and if looks could kill hers would have strike him dead right there and then. Oberyn pecked her lips, softly, temptingly, giving her more but not enough to ease her need. "Don't worry, she-wolf, I mean to take my time with you."

The journey back to the castle was tortuous and Lyanna had to congratulate herself from not giving in and kissing him again in front of everyone in the courtyard. There was something between them, she knew, and knew that he felt it too, and even as they crossed the courtyard and walked into the castle, and even if they kept apart from each other they still seemed to lean toward the other. The princess wondered as they walked toward her solar if others could feel it too, if they'd look at them and see how much she'd come to want him. If they could see the blue flames that seemed to take over every time they touched.

She was pulling at his clothes again by the time they reached her door, and Oberyn's laugh caressed her skin as he pressed wet kisses down her neck and bit softly at her pulse. Lyanna groped to open the door and stumbled when it opened but Oberyn made sure she didn't fall.

She felt the air turning cold before she noticed the presence behind them. "Lyanna!"

The she-wolf went still and pushed Oberyn away. She felt the urge to slap him when he saw that he was grinning shamelessly. Instead, she turned and faced her brother. "Neddie," she smiled, but the second son of the King in the North was having none of it.

Sitting at the head of the table, his leather jacket resting on the back of the chair, his hair tied back and his fists clenched in front of him, he looked more like Brandon than he ever had. Still, he had a calm about him that scared Lyanna more than her oldest brother's rage ever could.

"Lord Eddard," Oberyn had the nerve of greeting, and he was slightly panting.

Ned's grey eyes rose to meet the viper's black ones, but he didn't move, didn't return the polite greeting. Lyanna carefully slipped out of Oberyn's embrace and the movement caused the prince to focus on her again. There was a shadow of a smile dancing on his lips and the princess leaned against him almost without noticing.

"You should go, my lord." Her stare was hard enough to make Oberyn see that there was no way he could keep on challenging Eddard and get out of it unharmed. So he took her hands in his, feeling her shiver, and pressed chaste kisses against her knuckles.

There was a silent promise in Oberyn's dark eyes that left the princess staring at the door for a moment longer even after he had left. And then she steeled herself to face her brother. Luckily for her, Ned's stare had softened the moment the Red Viper had left. His anger, it seemed, was not toward her. Still, he didn't speak.

And maybe she was just reckless but she walked toward him and said, "What? You can have a secret lover and I can't?"

 _Lover_. The word burned through her. She hadn't thought of Oberyn as her lover until that moment. He was her friend, after all…or maybe something more than that.

"You must be happy to make jokes about it," was his answer. Ned moved his hands to take hers. "You said you weren't with him," he reminded her.

"I'm not. I wasn't. This is the first time that…" She didn't have to finish the sentence. Ned frowned, and Lyanna knew he was thinking hard about the situation and how to approach it, so she offered, "I'm not a maiden anyway, so what does it matter?"

And he didn't look a bit surprised. "Ben told," he confirmed and Lyanna nodded. She wasn't angry at Benjen, she didn't really care that her brothers knew she'd had an affair with centuries before. "But sleeping with a stable boy is not the same as," he pointed at the door as if Oberyn were still there, "sleeping with the Red Viper of Dorne. The man has a reputation."

"I'm aware," Lyanna assured. She'd known about his reputation when they'd met, and she had heard of most of the tales she'd been told before from his own lips during those weeks. He had told her about his battles, about all the poisons he had learnt to use and had even offered to teach her some of them. He had told her about his lovers, about how he'd had to flee Dorne after sleeping with the wife _and_ the mistress of an Yronwood lord and then killing the man, and he had told her about Essos, and about his girls, and she had marvelled at hearing all of those stories, wishing she could live such adventures someday.

Once again, Ned looked as if the vein in his head would explode from the hard thinking, and Lyanna was sure that if she stared deep enough into those grey eyes that were twins to her own she'd be able to see the inner workings of his brain.

"If anyone finds out…"

"You mean if Robert finds out." The princess moved her hands away from his, visibly distraught. "Just because he wants me or whatever it is that he feels for me it does not mean he can have me, brother."

"I know."

"Well, then the matter is settled. I shall do as I please." Before he could say anything else, she added "I hope you will be at my side no matter what I choose."

Ned was on his feet before she could react, his right hand moving to cup her cheek. "Of course, little sister, whatever happens." She made to move but her brother didn't let her. "But I will ask you to be careful."

"Worried about my heart?" she asked but gave him a bright smile. "Always, big brother."

Eddard's eyes moved to hers again, but this time he seemed uncertain, almost scared, and it surprised Lyanna. Still, she waited for him to speak, and when he did colour rose to his cheeks and he seemed coy in a way Lyanna had not seen since they were children.

"She wants to meet you."

Lyanna's face brightened up. "Your lady friend?"

He nodded. "I've talked to father. _She_ made me talk to father." He laughed. "She wants to let everyone know that I am officially courting her, and we decided it'd be best to start with family."

"So you love her." Lyanna was happy for him, of course she was. Ned Stark was the most kind, most loving male she had ever met, and she had started to think there was not going to be anyone worthy of him. She was also glad to know he wanted to know what she thought of his mysterious lover.

"I do." The raw sincerity and tenderness in her brother's words made her smile even wider.

 

* * *

 

 

 _That woman_. Oberyn had known he was screwed from the moment he had answered her kisses and had laid her on the grass next to the lake. Because he had known then that he didn't want to stop, that he'd take everything and anything that she would give him and if anyone had a problem with that he'd be glad to remind them why he was called Red Viper.

The prince could only imagine what Eddard Stark would be telling Lyanna. Warnings, surely. But she knew him better than her brother did, had been able to see through him almost from the beginning. She rattled him, made him shake and break in every way, and for the first time in his long life he found himself wishing for more of her.

 _For everything_.

He wanted to take her away, to show her all those parts of the world that she longed to visit, to see her beautiful face light up in wonder and her grey eyes burn with wanting. But most of all he wanted to show her Dorne, so she could understand who he was and what he was made of, and he found that he wanted to see her North also.

If Lyanna said no, though, if she told him that the only thing she wished for was a fleeting affair for as long as their stay at Harrenhal lasted, he would accept it and show her that he did live up to his reputation. But that would pain him too. And it wasn't something the prince was used too. Women came and went for him, and he had been with both immortals and mortals alike, sometimes for long periods of time and other times for merely days or weeks. But this princess, _this she-wolf of the North_ , was different even if Oberyn couldn't figure out why or how. For now, the prince couldn't wait to have her again between his arms, wanting to show her just how much he wanted her.

 

* * *

 

 

The princess hadn't known what to expect when Ned told her his _friend_ would join them for dinner. She'd been glad her brother hadn't wanted to talk about Oberyn again, as she could still feel her skin burn were he had touched her. She carefully put those thoughts away as she braided her hair, arranging it on the top of her head, coiled around a small silver diadem. She was wearing a heavy grey gown with sleeves of myrish lace that covered her arms to her elbows.

Dinner was ready on the table at their solar and Eddard sat at the head of it as if he had been told he was going to die. "Cheer up, big brother. There's no need to worry."

"Your opinion is really important to me," was his answer.

"As yours is to me." Lyanna smiled, genuinely amused by the look on his face. She couldn't remember the last time her brother had looked so young and so scared. "Stop worrying." She wondered if that meant he was really in love. She wondered if she'd feel the same way one day.

There was a knock on the door and faster than Lyanna could process, Eddard was on his feet and walking across the room to open the door. For half a heartbeat, Lyanna didn't know what to expect, and then her brother opened the door. And there she was, as beautiful as the day Lyanna had met her weeks before, standing on her tiptoes to tenderly kiss Ned's cheek and holding onto his arm with care.

When the second son of Rickard Stark moved aside to let her in, Ashara Dayne smiled brightly at Lyanna, who had suddenly forgotten how to speak.

"Princess," Ashara made a little reverence and Lyanna couldn't hold back a grin.

"I think I told you not to do that, my lady."

Ashara's violet eyes were fixed in her grey ones as she answered, "You did, indeed."

"You knew each other already." Not a question. He led Ashara to her chair and then sat at the head of the table again, with Lyanna at his right and the dornish lady in front of her.

"Yes, we have met," Lyanna nodded, earning a curious look from her brother. "And she came to my rescue once while I was lost in this massive castle."

That made the lady Dayne laugh cheerfully, and Lyanna knew there couldn't be a more beautiful woman in the whole world. Her brother looked at her as if she were the only star in his sky.

"Well I couldn't let you wander around these dark corridors and halls." She grinned with complicity. "Maybe we would have never found you, and people would have told stories of the Ghost Princess of Harrenhal for eons to come."

Ned poured wine in both their cups as he stared at them, the most important women in his life, for which he'd go to war and more, for which he would destroy empires and himself if he had to. He allowed himself to smile at the friendship already breeding between them.

And then Lyanna asked how they'd met and he had to do his best not to roll his eyes. Ashara answered with ease, her hand moving to rest on his for a moment and making him forget about the food. His sister had no such troubles, and listened to Ashara as she ate, visibly interested. _Good_ , Ned thought, for he hadn't known what he would have done if Lyanna hadn't supported him, if she hadn't seen in Ashara the light that he did. Focusing on his dinner, he listened to them talk with a smile on his lips.

 

* * *

 

 

When the dinner was done, the Stark Princess bid farewell to the dornish lady and pretended not to notice as Ned bent to peck her lips in a chaste kiss. Still, as she stared at them her mind wandered back to the dornish prince whose lips she'd been more than happy to claim barely hours before. The prince who had seen the power she carried in her bones, the ache in her heart and the wanderlust that swam in the depths of her eyes. The one who had seen her for all that she was and all that she was not.

He offered her the power to make her own decisions, gave her freedom in a world made of rules and restrictions and chains, and Lyanna wanted that. But above anything else, she wanted him.

So she retired to her chambers for the night but didn't change into her nightgown, listening carefully and making sure Ned was already tucked in his own chamber and sleeping before slipping away from the solar.

The corridors were dark and quiet, lit only by the dim light of the torches, and Lyanna felt as if her careful steps would wake a giant as she walked down the stairs and towards were she knew his chambers were. And for half a heartbeat, she thought she might be caught by a guard, perhaps, or surprised by a drunken courtier making his way back to his room. But she wasn't and soon found himself standing in front of Oberyn's door.

She knocked.

Her heart played an uneven staccato against her chest and she discovered that it was suddenly hard to breath. Ridiculous, she thought, and yet a fear lingered. That he might turn her away, that he might not want her anymore, that he…

Oberyn opened the door, and the princess had to blink twice.

He was wearing nothing but a pair of breeches, and his built was as good as she had imagined, his torso covered in scars from long won battles and defeated foes. His dark gaze stared into her grey irises almost with disbelieve, as if he couldn't believe in his eyes. And then he stepped aside, allowing her to walk in, their bodies brushing together as she walked between him and the opened door.

"Lyanna…" he started after closing the door and turning to look at her and the princess rolled her eyes at him.

"Shut up for once in your life, will you?" And just like that, she closed the distance that separated them, put her hands on his bare shoulders and kissed him.

He answered instantly, and even though she'd had the upper hand on the kiss, she soon handed control over to the viper, her whole body vibrating with energy at his touch. It lasted less than she'd have wanted.

As their eyes met again, the prince focused on undoing her braid, and soon her dark locks were falling freely down her back, the silver diadem that she'd been wearing made a loud clack when it hit the surface of the desk where Oberyn threw it.

"I love you hair," he confessed before kissing her again, and she knew she was too drunk on him by now to go back. Knew that she didn't want too even if she could have.

Lyanna was barely able to purr as an answer as his lips traced the soft skin of her neck, kissing it with the softness of a feather and biting down on the vein there as if he were trying to mark her.

"Undo the laces of my dress," she half asked, half commanded.

Oberyn's laugh was low and dark, and his eyes filled with a desire that could have made her come undone then and there. And then he turned her around, one of his hands resting on the lower side of her belly and pressing her back toward him, and the other focused on moving her hair so it'd fall down her left shoulder.

"As my lady commands," he grinned against her skin, his breath caressing her ear, and then proceeded to undo the laces of the dress, just like she had asked.

Lyanna closed her eyes as the laces came undone , as his fingers traced every inch of skin that got exposed, as he stopped for a moment to let his hands rest on her belly, the feeling causing her skin to burn, and his thumbs caressed her breasts ever so slightly, teasing her. And he was taking oh so long that she decided to finish the job for him.

Pulling at the edge of her sleeves she freed her chest from the fabric, letting only the skirts of her dress to cover her body. And then she turned around to face the prince.

There was actual hunger now in Oberyn's eyes and his smile was almost feral in a way that made Lyanna wonder if he wanted to devour her. She knew without doubt that she would happily let him.

He muttered something in a language that she did not know but assumed would be old rhoynish before kissing her again, slowly this time, more softly, and then preceded to shower her with kisses. As the prince bit down on the skin of her neck again, his hands traced up the skin of her belly until they reached her breasts. She moaned in his mouth when his fingers traced them too, as if he wanted to learn the shape of her body.

When they pulled away, he grinned again, and soon his lips and his tongue took the place of his hands, and Lyanna bit down hard on her lip not to moan out loud. A moment later, he was kissing down her belly, her fingers encouraging his movements and tangling on his dark curls, and soon she had the Red Viper of Dorne kneeling before her.

Others might have thought that a great accomplishment. The only thing she did was pull at the fabric that was still on her hips to encourage him to keep going.

And he did.

Pulling down the heavy dress until it was a pile around her ankles, Oberyn lost no time to keep on cherishing her. At first it was a kiss on her calf. Then the inner side of her thighs. Higher.

It was the tip of his tongue at first that he brushed against her, and he groaned, visibly please with finding her ready for him. And then he kissed her there too. Again. And again. Until Lyanna couldn't care about howling so loud she could have woken up everyone in the castle.

And when he stood again, as her legs threatened to give in, and he encircled her waist to kiss her fiercely and pull her toward him with the taste of her still in his lips, Lyanna reached for the hem of his breeches, pulling almost violently against the laces, ready to rip the piece of cloth apart if needed be. But she didn't have to, because it loosened easily, and soon she had him in her hand and it was his time to moan.

She wouldn't have been able to tell who gave the first step, but then both of them were moving, walking toward the bed as best they could between kisses, and touches, and moans.

Oberyn laid her on the bed and hovered over her, pressing against her inner thigh, the feeling of him almost painful when they were so close and yet not close enough. And so the princess turned them around, making him lay under her and straddling him.

"Lyanna," he whispered, and it sounded like a plea, though she wasn't sure she knew what he wanted of her. She wasn't sure he knew either.

Lyanna took him in her hand again and guided her to her entrance, a cry of pleasure leaving her as he moved against her, encouraging her movements. And she felt it again as she had that morning as he'd laid her on the grass, that feeling of their powers, their very essences, twisting and turning around them, joining and melting into one another.

The prince reached between their bodies to touch her, begging her, saying her name again and again until she forgot that there was a world out of that room and more people in it, because she could see and feel and want nothing more than this.

She fell to the side, panting, after becoming undone and biting down his shoulder so hard to make blood, and after he roared into her mouth as he found his release.

It took her a moment to notice that the canopy cover was on fire.

Her eyes found Oberyn and he laughed, loud and clear and uncaring of the blue flames around them. At the urgency in her gaze, though, he lazily moved his hand to extinguish the flames, though the damage was already done, not that he seemed to care.

"You must be used to this, right?" she laughed too, gesturing toward the ruined canopy.

Moving to the side and resting on his elbow to look at her, Oberyn made a face. "No," he said, "this is new." He moved his other hand to put a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and somehow she knew that he wasn't talking about the flames.

With a smile spreading across her face without her being able to stop it and he whole body still vibrating with energy, Lyanna Stark leaned forward to kiss the Red Viper of Dorne once more.


	4. The Princess of Winter that stole the Viper Prince

Truth was she hadn't wanted to leave Oberyn's chambers, not for the world, but as the grey light of dawn crept inside the room, the Viper had convinced her to leave, even if he seemed as happy with the idea of having to part ways as she was. As much as she denied it to herself, as much as she saw the denial in his onyx irises, there was something between them, and whatever line had kept them apart until then, whatever boundaries had been, they were now forgotten and gone. Even as she slipped out of the previous night's clothes and the castle started to overflow with activity; even as she called for a servant to draw her a bath; even as she sat on the tub with warm water around her and closed her eyes, the princess could feel something tickling under her skin, shaking her very bones. And she refused to give it a name.

Ned knocked on her door as she finished tying up the laces of her sleeveless black dress and, not bothering to braid back her hair and letting it fall freely down her back and shoulders, Lyanna joined him for breakfast.

As they ate, though, the princess was awkwardly aware of his brother's grey eyes staring at her. At first, she ignored it, but once it was clear he wasn't going to stop, she took a sip of her juice and turned to face him.

"What is it?"

Eddard, to his credit, seemed taken aback for a moment, but was quick to recover, and gave her a soft smile. "I had forgotten how much of the North lives in you."

It was then that Lyanna noticed. Her power, her magic, her essence, was not contained or hidden, and instead danced around her like the dearest of companions. And she didn't remember letting it out, but she felt comfortable and whole and there was no way she was going to apologize for being who she was.

In the south, it was a dangerous thing for a woman to have power. Men were the rulers of their houses, the kings and lords in their castles, and, among the Great Houses, to have a daughter that could outmatch any of her males relatives was a threat, since daughters were used to secure alliances with other kingdoms and lords.

The North was different, maybe because it still followed the old ways, or maybe because the females of that land were not only told of their duties to the husband that they would one day marry but also trained in arms so they may be able to defend themselves against bandits and invaders. Maege Mormont was the best example of it. Lyanna had never been just a girl from the North, of course, not when her father was the King of Winter. She had known from a very young age that Rickard Stark would one day use her to secure an alliance, just like she had known that her brothers would gladly turn her betrothed to mist before allowing her to marry someone she hadn't approved of. And yet, her father had never restrained her or locked her up in their castle as she knew some lords had advised him to do, and she would be forever be grateful for that.

So she had agreed to meet with Robert because Eddard had promised there was no better choice. But now she had been given a choice, and it wasn't marrying Oberyn Martell, for she was certain there was no way the Red Viper of Dorne would ever agree to marriage, and she was sure they'd end up killing each other at some point. No, it was choosing herself, and being herself and living for herself.

Before she could manage a reply, though, Ned added, as if he'd been reading her thoughts, "I stand by you, little sister."

"Even if I start a war by telling your friend to go–"

"Even then," he interrupted her, making a face that showed her he knew the obscenities that were about to come out of her mouth. "But, please, don't."

"Why?" she asked, and smiles even though she knew the answer. "You are stronger than most of them, are you not? Stronger than Robert, at least, even if I have a feeling he doesn't know that."

There was a sharp wit hidden inside Ned's grey eyes and the shadow of a grin in his lips. For a moment, he remained silent, thoughtful, and it reminded the princess of their father. He had claimed their homeland lived in her, but Lyanna could see it in him too.

"People are more comfortable when they believe they have the upper hand in every situation," Eddard finally answered. "Robert, for example…I love him, you know that, I care for him as if he was my brother, but he is hot-tempered and stubborn, and feels threatened by everything and everyone that seems a threat." He shrugged, "Besides, it is easier to act as father's ambassador if the other Kings and their heirs see me as nothing but a spineless errand boy."

Lyanna was surprised, because she hadn't known. Then again, it made sense for Ned to want to be seen as nothing but a pawn, since he had spent his life being Brandon's shadow. Listening and learning. Their eldest brother had been born to rule over the North and command its armies while Eddard was shaped to be his right hand, counsellor, confidant, and protector.

"And who are you," she started, "to Ashara?"

Without hesitation, he said, "Myself."

His sister gave him the brightest of smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

Lyanna went to take a walk around the palace grounds after breakfast, and pretended to be surprised when Ashara Dayne joined her. She suspected, after all, that their meeting when the lady had helped her find the castle's library hadn't been a coincidence, and the dornish woman had been looking for her. And she was flattered and happy to know that Ashara loved Ned enough to want to be her friend.

The truth was that she was nice, funny, and bright, and there was no doubt in Lyanna's mind as to why Ned was in love with her. It was so easy to be her friend, the princess thought, she could only imagine how easy it'd be to love her.

To Lyanna's surprise, though, Eddard was the last thing Ashara wanted to tell her about. Instead, she told her of her passions. They talked about clothes and jewellery and had an agitated discussion about horses. Lyanna said northerner stallions where the best mounts, while Ashara all but roared nothing could match a sand steed. In the end they were both laughing until their stomachs hurt.

They talked about books too, and the Princess of Winter promised Ashara she would make sure Ned gifted her some of their favourite books, because she was sure she would enjoy them.

It was not until they were walking back into the main courtyard that Lyanna noticed something. There was a tone in Ashara's words now as she spoke of Dorne…

"I think you'd like it," she smiled at her, purple eyes shining bright under the morning sun.

Lyanna grinned back. "You are starting to sound like someone I know, my lady."

Ashara looked down at the lilac sleeves of her dress, a curtain of hair hiding the sly smirk on her lips. "Was I that obvious?" she asked, looking away. "I won't insult your intelligence by denying what you already know, princess."

"Did he ask you to talk to me?" Lyanna asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. If he had asked, she would have felt angry that he would not talk about going to Dorne directly with her, but maybe another part of her would feel happy that he would talk about her to those he trusted.

"No," Ashara shook her head. "No, it was my idea. Oberyn would never do that."

"And why would you think I'd wish to go to Dorne with him?"

There was cunning in those violet eyes and unspoken danger, Lyanna could see it now, but somehow knew that Ashara Dayne was not working against her but for her even before the older lady spoke. Still, when she did, her words surprised the princess.

"I think you wish freedom over everything else." Ashara shrugged. "Forgive me. I know we barely know each other but your brother speaks of you all the time and it feels as if I'd known you for all my years. Certainly feels as if I'd known him that long." She laughed and then shook her head, as if she were trying to get a hold of her emotions. "Besides," she nodded at her, the corner of her mouth twitching up in a crocked smirk, "I know desire when I see it."

Lyanna's eyes wandered away from Ashara's when she felt a now familiar warmth brushing against her, even if she was certain he wasn't close. And her gaze found Obaryn across the yard, guiding his horse back into the stables. He didn't look in their direction, but the princess was certain he had felt her too.

Without taking her eyes from the now empty space where Oberyn had just been, Lyanna asked Ashara, "And what do I desire?"

"Freedom and respect, I'd say."

The princess had a feeling there was a certain someone the lady of Starfall would like to add to that list but didn't. She noticed then that Ashara was right…but also wrong. Because Lyanna didn't want freedom nor respect and she wouldn't ask for them. No, she'd demand them of those who would take them away from her. Because they were hers since she was born.

"Dorne would give me that?" she dared ask.

"I could be a start."

There was such sincerity in every one of the lady's statements that Lyanna realised she truly wished to help her and be a friend for her. _A sister_ , a voice whispered on the back of the princess' mind, _a sister-in-law, not a friend._ She nodded at Ashara Dayne.

"I can see how it was so easy for Ned to fall in love with you."

"I can't"," she answered, surprising Lyanna, and then gave her a bright smile. "But I'm so lucky he did."

She left her then and the princess watched her go, lilac skirts flowing around her slim figure and hair unbowed, and wondered how someone so terribly beautiful and with such a sweet nature could believe she was not one to be loved. And she was so focused on Ashara that she didn't hear or feel Oberyn approaching until her was a breath away from her.

" _She-wolf_ ," he purred, his breath caressing her earlobe and making her shiver. She could feel his chest against her back.

"Viper," she replied, holding back a smile and turning around to stare at him, making sure to put some distance between them, because they were too close and in public and she wasn't sure she wouldn't just kiss him there and then, the memories of the previous night still fresh in her mind and a pleasurable ache between her legs reminding her that it had not been a dream.

He was wearing a yellow tunic, the colour bright and striking against his dark skin as much as her black dress with her own alabaster skin, and there were golden necklaces around his neck. His grin made Lyanna shiver from head to toe. _Who is the stalker now?_

"I must admit feeling you staring at me like that surprised me. It was rather possessive of you, princess."

So _he had_ felt her. His smile was feral now and Lyanna half feared he would pounce for her in front of everyone. Granted, there were nothing but squires and servants around and several lordings that were too unimportant to matter to them, but still, being out there in the open and so close to the Red Viper of Dorne could turn her into the only thing the courts talked about for, at least, the following year.

"Is that what you tell yourself, prince, that I want to posses you?"

That smile of hers…Oberyn had woken up yearning for it and dreading that feeling, because he knew that it would lead him nowhere good. Neither of them had slept that night, and when she'd finally left his chambers the prince had not managed to let sleep claim him.

Elia had been the first one to notice his mood, of course, and had asked him about it as they broke their fast with Ashara Dayne. The Viper was smart enough to doge her question but the knowing glint in his sister's best friend's eyes made him uneasy. It hadn't been until Ashara had told them of her relationship with Ned Stark that he had understood.

"It is a pity," Elia had said, half joking, "that the North would steal you from us."

He hadn't dared made a comment, knowing that was exactly what the lady of Starfall expected. And he didn't dare ask Ashara what she knew about him and the she-wolf because he wasn't in the mood to have that kind of conversation with her.

Oberyn smirked back at Lyanna, sending a pulse of magic up her bare arms, knowing the warmth of it would be a welcomed alternative to the chill of that spring morning. What he didn't expect was for the princess to close her eyes and move, ever so slightly, closer to him.

"You already did, I believe. Several times. In many," He leaned towards her, feeling her breath against his skin, "different positions."

As he had expected, blush crept to her cheeks, but her grey eyes were defiant when they met his dark ones.

"You really are as perverted as people say, my lord."

She turned around at once, and he followed. They walked side by side across the courtyard, to the now empty stables and Oberyn wasn't sure what exactly was that Lyanna's coy smile promised.

"I heard Eddard and Ashara are already planning a trip for her to go meet your father," the prince commented.

Lyanna turned to him now that they were away from prying eyes and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at him. "Yes, my brother is rather excited." And then she added, "Why, Viper, would you like to meet my father too?"

No, he didn't, and they both knew it. Lyanna just laughed, "That's what I thought."

Her fingers were playing with the golden necklaces around his neck, lightly brushing the skin beneath them, and the prince of Dorne moved his hands to her hips, pressing their bodies together. There was a question dancing on Lyanna's eyes as she looked up at him, as there had been the previous night when she had walked into his chambers, almost as if she thought he would refuse her. As if she feared it even after seeing how much he wanted her.

Oberyn brushed his lips against hers as an answer, opening his mouth to her even so slightly, already feeling freeze covering her fingertips as they touched the skin of his chest. As if that had been the only answer she needed, Lyanna captured his mouth in a feral kiss, making him wonder yet again if she wasn't actually a wolf pretending to be a woman.

His skin burned where she touched him. Burned as if the prince himself hadn't been born of flames and embers and fire. And yet her hands were so cold as she moved one of them to the back of his neck, to bring him even closer, and the other under the fabric of his tunic to touch his skin.

"Lyanna," the red viper groaned against the skin of her neck, placing a trail of kisses along her jaw. He stopped at once when he felt her hand moving from his belly to the hem of his pants. "Stop," Oberyn warned as she tried to reach in them to touch him.

She did at once. "Are we doing this again?" she asked, and he knew she meant his reaction the previous day.

Oberyn laughed through his teeth. "Oh, no, she-wolf. I want you." He gave her a quick kiss and almost became undone when she moaned in his mouth. "But if you touch me like that here, princess, I'll set the whole fucking place on fire."

The hand that was still on the back of his neck seemed to claw at him and he could actually feel Lyanna aching at his words. Still, she managed to keep her voice steady as she said, "Would that be so bad?"

"Maybe not. And as enjoyable as seeing you squirm would be right now, we should take this somewhere else before someone comes in here and catches us doing such inappropriate things."

Lyanna's hands moved away from his skin then, and for once in his long life Oberyn Nymeros Martell regretted his words. Not moving his hands from her hips, he said, "I just meant..."

"I know what you mean, my lord." She frowned. "Shall we go inside then?"

The viper nodded, knowing he had overreacted. A part of him didn't understand where that sudden fear had come from. But she was still frowning.

 

* * *

 

 

Lyanna knew she should have gone back to her solar already, knew that she had missed lunch with Ned and knew that being tangled in bed with the Red Viper of Dorne was not what she was supposed to be doing. But, may the Old Gods have mercy on her; it was what she wanted to do.

The princess' head was resting against Oberyn's chest, his breath brushing her hair and their legs a tangles mess beneath the sheets, and he had an arm curled around her, his hand pressed to her back to keep her close to him. There was a sense of tranquillity to it that Lyanna couldn't help enjoying.

There was still hunger and fire and wanting shinning bright in the prince's eyes when Lyanna looked up at him, and she couldn't stop remembering the sounds he had made, how he had moaned and groaned her name as she knelt before him like he had knelt before her the night before. She had feared for a moment that the room would burn, but the prince had known better than to let his magic explode.

She kissed one of the scars on his chest and then sat on the bed, pushing her hair away from her face. Aware of his fingers lazily drawing patterns on the skin of her back, Lyanna brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them.

_I think you wish freedom over everything else._

"Oberyn," she managed.

His hand froze on her back and even if she could not see him, the prince frowned at her. "You sound uncharacteristically serious, princess."

Oberyn sat too and kisses her bare shoulder, moving his hand to embrace her from behind. He had not missed the way his name had sounded on her lips, as if she was afraid of voicing her thoughts to him. It hurt him more than he would care to admit.

"Lyanna," His voice was but a whisper against her skin. "What is it?"

It took her a moment to answer, and when she did she didn't turn to look at him. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to leave?"

He was quick to say, "I'd ask if you need help or any kind of supplies."

The prince felt the tension leave her body. Had she expected him to tell her it was madness? To tell her that she should stay and do as her family asked of her? Surely she knew that he of all people was in no position to do that.

"What if I needed a friend?" She half turned in his embrace to be able to look at him, grey eyes strong and hard as steel.

The viper let the warmth of his gift envelope them both as he smiled at her and caressed her cheek. "Well, then I will do my best to find you one, princess."

Lyanna's shock was apparent before she noticed he was joking and he couldn't stop laughing, even when she not so angrily pushed him and made him fall back on the bed.

Oberyn laughed and looked up at her as she straddled him again, arm locked behind his head, aware of every breath of light between them. She still smiled, but it was obvious she was lost in thought as she sat on him but didn't seem to see him at all. After a moment, she said:

"I haven't really given it much thought. I just…" As she found the words, the prince moved his free hand to place a lock of dark hair behind her ear, and then took her hand in his, drawing patterns on the skin of her palm. "Ned wouldn't care, not as long as I'm happy and I know that Ben and Bran wouldn't either, even if Bran would probably through a fuss because I didn't let him come. But my father…"

"None of them are you, she-wolf. Think about what you want, and go take it." That was what he had always done, and it had sometimes got him into trouble, but he'd never regretted any of it.

Lyanna raised an eyebrow at him, the shadow of a smirk on her lips, and the prince could only imagine what she was thinking. He grinned in return.

Her hand broke free of his hold and she trailed a finger down his torso, making the prince groan at the sensation of her frozen fingers. Oberyn was sure there was frost in them when he caught her hand again and brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them.

"You have no idea how many things I want to do to you."

Lyanna feigned confusion and pouted. "What's stopping you from showing me?"

The prince placed both of his hands on her hips now, grinding up his hips so she could feel him. He laughed humorously.

"That wicked mouth of yours." Oberyn moved up to kiss her deeply, keeping their bodies close. "How about _you show me_ what you can do with it?"

She did.

 

* * *

 

 

A wild, merciless wind arose that afternoon, tearing tents off the ground, and making banners fly up to the skies. It was certainly not the warmth they had been expecting from a springtime evening, but the courtiers didn't seem to want to let that ruin their day and Lyanna found herself escorting her brother to dinner in the Great Hall of the massive castle.

They wore matching outfits (it had been Ned's idea), with Lyanna wearing a heavy dark grey gown with long sleeves of myrish lace, and him wearing a white shirt and a leather jacket of the same colour of her dress with the wolf of their house embroidered on the back.

And even though she was the one accompanying him, Ashara joined them as soon as they arrived; claiming a seat at Ned's left –with Lyanna at his right− as they dined. The princess of winter couldn't stop noticing that while the dornish lady's dress was a pale lilac that matched her eyes, the silver earrings, cuffs, and hair-piece she wore were a nod to the grey and white of the Stark banner.

Most of the eyes on the room were on Eddard and Ashara during the dinner, and afterwards when music started playing and the nobles joined each other to dance, but they didn't seem to care, too focused on each other to even see them or notice them.

And Lyanna stared at them too, unable to hold back a smile. Yes, it would be easy to call Ashara Dayne her sister and it would be even easier to leave Ned knowing that she would be at his side, loving him as the glimmer in her violet eyes told the princess she did.

The princess couldn't stop laughing when the lady convinced Eddard to dance with her, because she knew how much her brother hated it. Not because he didn't know how to, because he certainly was quite a good dancer, but because he hated the attention it brought upon him. And yet there he went, to dance and laugh and spin with his beloved.

His sister was left to watch them while enjoying the feast and the wine, and if she hadn't been so absorbed in her own thoughts maybe she would have heard someone approaching her. Then again, if she hadn't got so get used to Oberyn's essence, maybe his sister wouldn't have been able to sneak up on her.

"They make a beautiful couple," she said, a smile on her lips as she sat on the seat Ned had vacated minutes before. The eyes she shared with her brother were kind when they met Lyanna's grey ones.

"Yes, they do," the princess of winter nodded, knowing that wasn't why Elia Nymeros Martell had come to talk to her.

She didn't give the golden princess the pleasure of asking, though, knowing exactly what kind of game they were playing. And after a few moments, Elia smirked at her.

"It had been a while, you know, since I last saw my brother's eyes shine like the do when he looks at you." She reached to pour herself a glass of wine. "I thought at first that it was the challenge of finding someone that reminded him so much of himself that moved him. I understood it meant nothing but trouble."

Lyanna frowned, turning her attention fully to her.

In that room, with the fire from the candles reflecting on her jewels and the golden circlet she had on top of her head, Elia Martell looked like the queen Lyanna knew she would one day be.

"I don't believe I understand."

The princess of Dorne smiled. "I meant no offense. It was a compliment, truly. Oberyn needs someone that looks him eye to eye and tells him he's an arrogant and stubborn oaf of a man with no impulse control."

The Stark princess almost choked on her drink, laughing without wanting to. Hiding a smile by taking a sip of her own drink, Elia kept on talking, telling Lyanna about her children and her love for sand steeds. After a while, Lyanna found that she would love to call her sister, too. She tried her best not to think about what that meant.

But then she found Oberyn staring her from across the room, eyes narrowed as if to ask what in the seven hells was she talking to his sister about, and she answered with a crooked smile. Apologizing to Elia –even if the princess' knowing look was enough to let Lyanna know she understood were she was gooing−, she waltzed across the room to were Oberyn stood.

"You are not plotting my demise, I hope," the prince said.

"Now, why would we do that?" was her answer.

His eyes were monitoring the room, and she didn't have to turn to understand her not-so-much-of-a-fiancée was staring at them. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes.

"Oberyn," Lyanna called softly, making his attention snap back to her.

"Princess," he nodded at her.

"We are leaving tonight."

It was half a question and half a command and she waited for him to say that he wasn't leaving with her. That, despite their friendship, despite their…closeness, he was not leaving his world for her, not going to travel the world with her, not going to risk the trouble it would be to run away with the only daughter of one of the most power kings of Westeros.

But he nodded and leaned ever so slightly toward her, "No need to pack. Come to my chambers when you are ready."

Lyanna had to do her best not to smile.

 

* * *

 

 

She didn't say goodbye to Ned, because if she did, she would have to explain, and she would have to bear listening to his sad farewells. So she chose to let him sleep, to let him enjoy his happiness, and wrote a letter for him to find the next morning. It was short and she knew Brandon and father would argue with him for it. But she also knew Ned would understand.

_I'm going on an adventure, don't you dare marry before I come back._

She hoped it'd make him laugh, because she'd rather have him laughing that crying for her departure.

She'd put on her leathers, braided her hair back, seethed her daggers and put her sword on her belt, its weight a familiar one as she walked through the castle. Quiet as a shadow. As quick as a snake.

Oberyn kissed her forehead when she arrived. He had his spear with him but Lyanna didn't dare talk to ask him how he expected them to survive without any kind of currency. It felt like breaking the quiet of the night would get them caught. So she said nothing, asked nothing, and held his hand tight as they slipped out of the castle like thieves in the night.

Their horses were seated and ready outside the castle grounds and only when they reached them did Oberyn turn to her, thumb stroking her cheek and dark eyes looking ablaze even in the darkness of the night.

"We can still go back."

Taking a deep breath, the princess of winter shook her head, "We won't."

Lyanna had asked him for this, for the rush, the freedom, tired of all the rules, the walls, and the polite but fake smiles around them. Wanting more of the world, of her immortal life. Of him. And now that he would give it, she was determined to take it, for as long as it lasted.

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, hands holding onto his shoulders to bring him to her, and Oberyn answered in kind. The viper smiled and nodded at her when they pulled away. If it was in agreement or as a vow, she did not know. But, as they mounted their horses and rode away, she decided she was determined to find out.

She was Lyanna Stark of Winterfell, heir of King Rickard Stark, the blood of the First Men, and a daughter of the North. She was the heir of ice and snow and, whatever challenges awaited her, she would not be afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first part has finished, but Lya and Oberyn's story defenitely hasn't. The second part of this story is called "The Bride of Ice that conquered Ash and Fire" and you can find it in my "Of Gods and Kings" series. Make sure you check it out! :D


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